


back to december

by SunshineExploder



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Apologies, Break Up, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Songfic, Unspecified Mental Illness, uses lyrics from the song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 19:28:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9509012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunshineExploder/pseuds/SunshineExploder
Summary: "I'd go back to December, turn around and change my own mind."





	

Alex hasn’t been sleeping. Not that he ever really did, but it was easier when he wasn’t sleeping alone. It was easier when he didn’t stay up and play back himself leaving, a loop he can’t stop seeing. It’s hard to get used to it again, the cold sheets and room to spread out. He doesn’t like it as much as he thought he would. He doesn’t sleep loose-limbed all over the place like he did before. He stays curled up, a little spoon with a missing piece.

 

-

 

Roses on the kitchen counter. A gorgeous green vase of them, and they’re not even fake. Alex drops his bag and carefully moves forward to see them. They smell lovely. A card is nestled in the middle of the bouquet. He picks it up, reads the pretty black font.  _ Yours forever, John Laurens.  _ Alex puts it back. Goes to his room. When he comes back out in the morning, the roses are wilted.

 

-

 

John looks guarded, sitting across from Alex in the coffee shop. Alex doesn’t blame him. He’s sure John is thinking what he’s thinking, sure that their last meeting is burned into the back of his mind just the same. John’s cheeks and nose are adorably red from the cold, and Alex is reminded of the last time he saw him. It was cold then, too.

“I’m so glad you made time to see me,” Alex says, sort of quietly. His words fail him. “Um, how’s life?” Wow, he could not have said anything more asinine.

“I’ve been good. Things have been busy, I guess.” John sounds just as lost as Alex is.

“How’s your family? I haven’t seen them in a while.”

“Y’know. Same old. Mary lost her last baby tooth.”

“Yeah? That’s great. I remember how excited she was about that.”

“Yeah. She wanted me to send you a picture of it, but…well.”

“I know.”

 

-

 

The summer sun turns John’s freckles into dark jewels and his hair into a halo. It whips in the wind as they drive down this deserted road the found on their way to South Carolina with the windows down. John is laughing that angel laugh as Alex is going on ranting about whatever his newest grievance is. It’s nothing serious, something really only Alex would be irritated by. He knows how funny John finds these ramblings. Maybe it’s almost more to indulge John and less to get out his annoyance.

Then Alex just pauses. The sun is hitting John just the right way, his eyes are sparkling, and the trees outside go on forever. The smile on his face is so beautiful that Alex thinks even an angel couldn’t help but falling for it. And in that that moment, it all comes together and he gets it, he finally  _ gets  _ it. 

“Alex? You good?”

The pieces fall into place. 

“I love you.”

 

-

 

Alex paces in the living room, clutching a mug of coffee. The clock reads 3:36 a.m. He’s been out of his meds for a few days, hasn’t wanted to tell John. It’s a secret, see. John can’t know about the medication because then he’ll know how absolutely over the bend Alex is. He’s nuts, crazy, out of his head. Doesn’t want John to see. Fear creeps into Alex’s heart as he imagines that, imagines John finding out. He would leave. He would leave and Alex would be alone and goddammit, Alex can’t handle another person leaving him.

 

-

 

Alex is on a business trip with Washington. He doesn’t call John all day. The beginning of the end.

 

-

 

“I think we need to break up.”

A pot clatters to the ground and John whirls around, looks at Alexander sitting at the kitchen island. His head is down. He looks at his hands instead of John.

“What the fuck, Alex?”

Alex shifts, fidgets, doesn’t look up. “It’s too much. I want freedom, y’know? I’m only 26. There’s more to do before I settle down.”

John looks at him like something inside him has just snapped.

 

-

 

Sitting up in bed, staring at John. Alex rubs his cold arms. It’s late, too late, but he had that dream again. The one where he screws up and John finds out just how crazy he is. Alex is afraid. He loves John, loves him so fiercely that it’s dangerous. But he’s terrified of John knowing the truth. And he doesn’t know how long he can keep living scared.

 

-

 

“Why did you really ask me to come here, Alex?”

 

-

 

John is holding him, petting his hair, whispering assuring words in his ear. He’s crying. He shouldn’t be crying. It’s a thunderstorm, the worst one they’ve had all year. The hurricane all over again, and people are dying all around him. Only they’re not. John is saying everything is okay, but the world is drowning.

Idly, he realizes it’s the first time John has ever seen him cry.

 

-

 

“I’m sorry for that night.”

“You mean--”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little late for that?”

“Look, John. I love you. Freedom is nothing but missing you, and I only wanted it because loving you is absolutely terrifying. But being without you is worse. I wish I realized what I had when you were mine. I should’ve gotten over myself and I didn’t. So this is me swallowing me pride and telling you I’m sorry for that night.”

“Alexander…”

 

-

 

The fireworks are gorgeous in South Carolina. They illuminate John’s tan skin, his sweet smile. Even though this trip has been sort of awkward and Alex still isn’t convinced Henry Laurens doesn’t want to ship him back to Nevis, this is worth it. July 4th (or as Henry Jr. affectionately calls it, “America Day”) with the Laurens family was a good idea. Alex is happy. John looks down at him, kisses him under the fireworks.

 

-

 

Alex wishes every day since that night that he could go back and make it all right. He wishes he could go back and change his own mind. December never leaves his mind.

 

-

 

“Do you really mean all this?”

“Of course I do. And maybe it’s wishful thinking, probably it’s mindless dreaming, but if we loved again, I swear I’d love you right. I’d go back in time and change it, but I can’t.”

 

-

 

A bouquet of roses is delivered to John’s doorstep. He takes it, moving mostly out of shock. As the delivery boy walks away, he looks at the card.  _ If the chain is on your door, I understand. Yours forever, Alexander Hamilton.  _ He puts the card back. Stares at the flowers for a moment.

Takes them inside.

**Author's Note:**

> Fuck you, I like Taylor Swift's music. You can fight me in the Denny's parking lot.
> 
> This is just a little thing I wrote because I'm still riding off the angst from the "if this is love, i don't wanna be loved" update. It's unedited and little but I hope you like it. I might write more inspired by the Speak Now album because, to be real, I love it a lot and it just begs to be translated into Hamilton angst. We all know that's what y'all come here for.
> 
> Comments and kudos keep my skin clear and my works list growing.


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